Master 011

Ling Feng, relying on his innate talent, advanced at an astonishing pace, progressing from the Foundation Establishment stage all the way to the Golden Core stage.

This earned him great favor from the Qionghua Sect.

Recently, news spread that the Xuantian Sect had suffered a major calamity. Ling Feng secretly rejoiced, recalling the unjust beating he had endured at their hands. He thought such a sect deserved divine retribution.

However, he soon heard that the Xuantian Sect had stabilized under the leadership of a Nascent Soul grandmaster.

Ling Feng scoffed. Nascent Soul? With his talent, reaching that stage would be effortless.

Yet, whenever he remembered the plundered secret realms he had stumbled upon, he couldn’t help but feel a hollow ache in his chest. Had he arrived just a little earlier, he might already be at the Nascent Soul stage.

Still, the heavens had been kind to him—his cultivation speed far surpassed that of many senior brothers.

That very day, Ling Feng heard that the eldest senior brother had returned from his training journey, boasting abundant gains, including an extremely rare spiritual herb he presented to their master.

Overjoyed, the master immediately prepared to reward him.

Amid the celebratory atmosphere, a thunderous explosion echoed from afar.

Everyone froze. Moments later, a disciple rushed in, shouting, "The Xuantian Sect is attacking!"

Ling Feng was stunned. Had sect wars become so casual now? The Xuantian Sect had just endured a disaster—how could they dare launch an assault?

"Xuantian Sect? Could it be Qingxu?" The master’s expression darkened.

Ling Feng understood his concern—after all, Qingxu was a Nascent Soul expert. But he wasn’t worried. The Qionghua Sect possessed the most formidable mountain-protecting formation, impervious even to Nascent Soul power.

When the group arrived at the sect’s entrance, Ling Feng finally learned the truth—the spiritual herb his senior brother had seized was stolen from Xuantian Sect disciples.

The master attempted to justify their actions.

In the next instant, Qingxu struck. The entire Qionghua Sect trembled as their protective formation wavered precariously.

"Late-stage Nascent Soul... How... how is this possible?" the master muttered in disbelief.

Qingxu’s demands were simple:

First, return the herb.

Second, pay reparations.

Third, expel Ling Feng.

The first two demands made sense to Ling Feng, but why expel him? He felt the weight of everyone’s gaze, his discomfort growing.

"This disciple of yours trespassed into my female disciple’s chamber with ill intent. Were it not for others intervening, who knows what might have happened? How can such a man call himself a cultivator?" Qingxu’s words struck like thunder.

Ling Feng seethed with anger. Over this? He had merely stumbled into that room by accident—he hadn’t even spoken two words before being dragged out and beaten!

The master tried to defend him. "Elder Qingxu, my disciple is not that kind of person. There must be some misunderstanding."

Fang Zhiyi gazed down at them coldly, narrowing his eyes. "Are you suggesting that I, a late-stage Nascent Soul, traveled thousands of miles just to frame a junior? Do I look that idle?"

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

He was right—why would a Nascent Soul expert, with no prior grudge, go out of his way to accuse a mere Golden Core junior?

Ling Feng’s heart turned to ice. He knew the ruthlessness of the cultivation world—might made right, and the strong dictated truth.

The master hesitated.

Then, the mountain-protecting formation shook violently again. It was clear to all that it wouldn’t hold much longer.

Fortunately, the elders intervened in time, stabilizing the situation.

Fang Zhiyi smirked. "So this is your choice? Very well." He turned and left, leaving the Qionghua Sect bewildered. Was it over just like that?

Ling Feng wasn’t foolish. The elders hadn’t acted to protect him—they were safeguarding the sect’s reputation and avoiding reparations.

But from that day onward, everything took a strange turn.

Qionghua Sect disciples were assaulted whenever they ventured outside. The attackers were Xuantian Sect members, who taunted, "Blame your fellow disciple Ling Feng, the lecher, for this!"

The elders wanted to intervene, but the moment they stepped out, Qingxu would appear at the sect’s gates, locking them in a stalemate.

At first, it was bearable. But as the attacks multiplied, Ling Feng noticed the hostile glares from his sectmates wherever he went.

What else could they do? They couldn’t win a fight. The root of their suffering was this "lecher" among them.

Rumors about Ling Feng spread like wildfire.

Cultivation required real-world experience, but now, leaving the sect meant a beating. The entire Qionghua Sect seemed trapped, with the Xuantian Sect camped outside as if they had nothing better to do.

When the sect master attempted negotiations, a breakthrough aura erupted beyond the gates.

Immediately, the sect master announced Ling Feng’s expulsion, punishment for the herb-thieving disciple, and generous compensation in spirit stones and plants.

Cast out of the Qionghua Sect, Ling Feng began his life as a rogue cultivator. He considered joining other sects, but his reputation had spread far and wide. Some feared offending the Xuantian Sect; others simply despised him.

Through the Xuantian Sect’s relentless slander, Ling Feng became known as a predator who preyed on female cultivators, draining their cultivation through dual cultivation—a practitioner of demonic arts.

He lost count of the beatings he endured—first from Xuantian Sect disciples, then from the entire cultivation world, which had branded him a common enemy.

His infamy spread far and wide, accompanied by portraits circulated everywhere.

The Xuantian Sect’s growing influence in cultivation commerce left him no refuge. They declared that anyone associated with him would be cut off from trade.

Even mortals spun tales of his villainy in street performances. He had been forced into the role of the ultimate antagonist.

With his heart demon festering, Ling Feng’s cultivation regressed instead of advancing.

He never met his destined partner—female cultivators shunned him entirely.

"That boy’s heart demon has crippled him. He won’t live long," Little Hei remarked, circling back to Fang Zhiyi’s side.

Fang Zhiyi nodded, observing his disciples before him. Who would have thought these once-neglected talents would now mentor their own students? Who said poor foundations barred one from immortality?

Especially Shen Xiaoxiao. Fang Zhiyi had poured most of the opportunities seized from Ling Feng into her, forcibly elevating her to the Nascent Soul stage.

Now, Shen Xiaoxiao carried herself like a true master.

"What? You didn’t mention you’re from the Xuantian Sect?"

"Call for backup! Let’s see who dares lay a hand on my disciple!"

"What are you waiting for? Arm yourselves! Move out!"

"Junior Sister! Wait—ah?" Jiang Leng sighed, failing to stop her. "They’ve already come to apologize with spirit stones. The envoys are in the reception hall..."

Jiang Leng missed his master. Fang Zhiyi had left to wander the world, taking even the former sect leader with him, vanishing without a trace.

Under his leadership, the Xuantian Sect had truly embraced equality—disciples of all aptitudes were guided according to their strengths, never discriminated against.

Most importantly, the Xuantian Sect is now unprecedentedly united and has undeniably become a colossal entity in the cultivation world.

Their motto is: "No matter how poor your talent, if you have the will, you can attain the Great Dao!"